


nobody knows it like you do

by heliodor



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Advice, Bad Decisions, Blow Jobs, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Language Barrier, Love at First Sight, M/M, Musicians, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heliodor/pseuds/heliodor
Summary: Joshua Faraday is at the end of his rope. Deep in mourning as he struggles to write his much anticipated sophomore album, a family friend forces him to go to the Rose Creek Ranch resort for a little change of scenery before his self destructive tendencies can stick.When he runs into a handsome ranch hand who doesn’t speak much English, Faraday feels safe spilling his guts in the sappiest way possible, but little does he know that Vasquez has his own secrets, the least of which being he understands every word Faraday says. Ultimately Faraday has to decide whether or not he even wants a second shot at having a family.Or will he wallow in his run of bad luck forever?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "The Devil Is All Around" by Shovels & Rope
> 
> All real song lyrics referenced will be listed in end notes on a chapter by chapter basis. I'll do my best to offer up Spanish translations as well, but I might forget so remind me if I do and you want them.

Excerpt from "The Comeback Kid" 

Earl Hutchings  
August 21, 2022 4:30 PM

 

Six years ago Faraday rocketed to the top of the country charts with his album _World’s Greatest Lover_ taking the world by storm with his irreverent mix of bluegrass, folk, and a touch of rock and roll swagger that gave him an unexpected crossover appeal. Just after he hit the height of his fame snapping up all the awards he could carry and appearing on the Tonight Show to sing a duet with Dolly Parton, Faraday disappeared. There were some rumors about a second album in 2018, but nothing materialized until Faraday’s heartfelt follow-up _Run of Bad Luck_ dropped this summer. We sat down with the singer-songwriter to talk about his music, magic, and being true to yourself.

**Hey, Faraday, thanks for agreeing to speak with me today. How’s it going?**

“[Laughs] Oh, the interview’s starting now? Here I thought you and your brother just wanted to meet up and play some poker. Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re starting this after you tried to go double or nothing.”

**[ _Laughs_ ] Can’t slip anything past you. Speaking of the past... I’m curious to know what happened to make you take a hiatus between _World’s Greatest Lover_ and _Run of Bad Luck_.**

“[ _Snorts_ ] Oh, very smooth. Well... “

**Faraday?**

“I’m trying to figure out how much of this story I can tell without my fiancé getting pissed at me. [ _Laughs_ ] Okay. [ _He starts shuffling a deck of cards._ ] You see, music is like a magic trick. You can take the worst day of your life, add a guitar lick, and suddenly you transformed that experience into something that will make other people happy. It’s easy to write about your own life but twist facts so nobody understands your actual meaning even though it’s there in plain sight. It’s misdirection. That makes it easy to hide behind the music, and when you can’t do that anymore it’s best to disappear yourself to maintain the illusion. [ _He fans out the deck he was shuffling._ ] Now pick a card. Any card.”


	2. Chapter 1

_There must be some other way, I just don't know  
Gotta get myself back up on that high road  
But nobody knows it like you do_

“The Devil Is All Around” - Shovels & Rope

\-----

Joshua hissed when the curtains suddenly flew open. Once his eyes adjusted to the light he found himself blinking up owlishly at none other than Sam Chisolm, the man in black himself. The thought distracted Josh and made him focus on trying to remember if he’d ever seen Sam wear any other color over the course of their acquaintance instead of the more pertinent question of why the hell Sam was standing in his living room looking so paternal with his hands on his hips.

“Joshua,” Sam said when it looked like the man was about to just cut his losses and go back to sleep.

“Sam,” Joshua returned as cheerfully as he was able, wincing at the gargled glass quality of his voice. “Don’t suppose you’re here to bring me some painkillers?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t miss your flight and check-in at Rose Creek.” Sam carefully stepped over a pile of empty whiskey bottles and headed for the kitchen. Figured he would just walk around like he owned the place now that there was nobody to corral him into being a good guest and minding his own damn business; now that-

Joshua’s thoughts stuttered to a stop as they brushed against that all-important thing he wasn’t allowing himself to think about for too long.

When Sam came back into the room with a glass of water to make him drink, Josh was staring at the burn mark on the ceiling he’d made on accident back when he was fifteen. Sam’s expression softened. It was the eyes really. The way he looked like he _knew_ what was going on inside Joshua’s head… Well, Josh could hardly be blamed for closing his own eyes and grinding the heels of his palms against them so he wouldn’t have to see the pity there.

“What?” Joshua spat meanly. “Are you going to hustle me to the airport yourself and fly there with me? Are you gonna hold my hand so I don’t get fucking lost? I already agreed to go to your goddamn ranch, Sam. I paid them. I’m not gonna flake out.”

Sam didn’t rise to the bait. He silently stared until Joshua chugged down the water and he accepted the empty glass.

“You’ll feel better with some fresh air,” Sam said not unkindly as he started to walk away again to set the glass back in the sink. “And I’m not taking no for an answer, son. You need to leave this house and see other people. It’s been over a year now. She wouldn’t have wanted you to throw your life away like this.”

And there it was. At least Sam hadn’t said her name. Joshua couldn’t have guaranteed he wouldn’t have started bawling like a baby if Sam had.

“It doesn’t matter what she would have wanted,” Joshua snapped, sitting bolt upright on the couch and glaring at probably the only person left in the world who really gave a damn about him. “She’s gone!”

Sam eyed Joshua, unimpressed by the outburst. He crossed his arms and said, “I know, and I know you’ve been doing your damndest to follow her. I’m not letting that happen. I’m going to give you thirty minutes to freshen up a little and finish packing what you want to take to Rose Creek, and if you’re not ready yet when time’s up, I’m going to drag you out of here and throw you in the car with nothing. I’d get moving if I were you.”

And with that Sam made a show of pulling out his phone to set a timer and sitting down on the recliner off to the right of the couch.

He’d do it too. Sam might have been getting up there in years ( _not as old as her, he wasn’t as old as her_ ), but he was one of those clean living freaks who was probably in better shape than Joshua was. It wasn’t fair.

“You’ve got twenty five minutes left,” Sam announced.

“Alright!” Joshua practically shouted himself to his feet. He winced at the way his aching head protested the movement and pointed himself in the direction of his bedroom. “I’m gone already!”

He didn’t quite manage to get ready in his twenty five remaining minutes even with the head start he got by having roughly all the clean clothes he wanted to take with him in a pile on his bed already, but Sam must have been feeling generous enough not to suplex him and drag him out the house by his feet.

As it was Joshua only packed the essentials: a book bag with the main compartment full of clothes rolled up to save space the way Maria had taught him, a thick spiral bound notebook wedged in at the very back in the pocket meant for a laptop, and his charger and a handful of pens in the smaller front pocket. He figured he could buy all the hygiene shit he needed at his destination, and his phone, keys, and wallet fit in his pockets of course. So the only other thing he had needed to do was choose an instrument to take on the trip. That was what took him an extra ten minutes.

Luckily, Joshua did have a few hours before his flight’s departure time. Unluckily, it seemed Sam really was determined to accompany him every step of the way; at least the diner Sam dragged him to before heading to the airport was just the right kind of greasy spoon to soothe Joshua’s weary soul.

\---

“I don’t like this,” Vasquez said as he watched Matthew set out extra seating around the fire pit for the visitors who would arrive soon. 

Goodnight and Billy were already pressed as close together as two people in separate camp chairs could be, hands touching but not entwined. Teddy’s seat was kicked over how he left it on accident when he got up to help Jack grab the coolers, and Red was busy gathering material from the woodpile to build the fire. That left only one person to serve as an audience for Vasquez’s ire: the most qualified person to do something about it.

Emma sighed, folding her hands over her growing belly. “I know. You said. Many _many_ times.”

“It’s the off season. We don’t even have the full staff here. You’re doing renovations on the lodge,” Vasquez repeated all his very well reasoned arguments he’d been telling the Cullens all week since Emma dropped the news that they’d be hosting a new guest in one of the cabins.

“We don’t need the lodge,” Emma said, repeating her own counterargument again. “Faraday’s not expecting anything fancy. From what Sam told me, he’s coming here for some peace and quiet to write his songs like Goodnight writes his novels. It’s not like I expect you to personally entertain the man.”

Vasquez narrowed his eyes, glancing over to where their permanent writer in residence was stroking his thumb gently across the back of his husband’s hand. “Goody follows me around and asks about my family and the Marías when I’m tending the horses sometimes. He uses everybody for story inspiration,” he pointed out.

Emma threw her hands up in defeat. “That doesn’t mean Faraday is going to latch onto you as his muse! You didn’t even know who he was. I don’t see why you care, and again, you don’t have to talk to him.”

“If he tries to talk to you just pretend you don’t speak English,” Red added, settling down to start the fire in the fire pit. “It works every time.”

“That’s a stupid idea. Don’t do that,” Emma said but Vasquez was distracted by the sound of a car pulling up in the Cullen driveway.

Vasquez snagged a beer from the cooler Teddy set down and slouched down in his chair to settle into a good sulk. It wasn’t Sam’s fault. Sam was okay. More than okay in Vasquez's eyes with everything the man had done for him.

While he wasn’t a member of the staff, Sam was basically a part of the Rose Creek Ranch family so much so that everyone considered one particular cabin on the property unofficially his because that was where he stayed every time he stopped in for a visit. Reservation schedules didn’t apply to Sam; he was welcome at the ranch anytime, not just when the ranch was officially open to guests. The man even paid them to house and take care of his personal horse year round regardless of how long it it was between his visits. 

Sam had just never bought a guest along before, much less a guest he’d be leaving behind while he himself went back to work on Monday. That was the part Vasquez hated.

Vasquez had a healthy wariness around strangers ever since the incident that indirectly led to his being hired on at Rose Creek. When they came in groups in the summer they were easy to avoid close contact with, but one lone man, especially one that would likely be hanging around the Cullens’ house some, would be harder to shake, especially if he made friends with Vasquez’s friends.

He didn’t want to look up when Sam brought Faraday around the house to introduce them all to the country star, thought it best to establish himself as aloof from the start. He didn’t want to look, but he did and his heart dropped. Faraday looked…. Normal. Better than normal. _Attractive._

If Vasquez was standing up he was pretty sure he and Faraday would be about the same height give or take half an inch, but while Vasquez was all lean, long lines, Faraday was built _thick_. The man’s hoodie did nothing to hide the size of his arms when he crossed them over his chest and his _thighs_. They weren't fair. It wasn’t fair how a hoodie, worn jeans, and a baseball cap made Faraday look like the kind of scruffy dude Vasquez would want to try to pick up over drinks and not a potential powder keg of prejudice and entitled fuckery. Then again, most white guys were like that; the fame just added a new level of bullshit Vasquez did not want to deal with.

Wishing Emma hadn’t banned cigarettes from being used in her presence for the duration of her pregnancy, Vasquez glared at Faraday darkly as he drained the rest of his beer in one go and reached for another.

The asshole fucking noticed, tilting his head and smiling slightly when he caught Vasquez’s eye.

A welcomed distraction arose in the form of Emma hauling herself up to play hostess. She gave Sam and Faraday their individual cabin keys and insisted that her husband take them across the grounds in a golf cart so they could put their things away and freshen up or just go to sleep if they wanted (if only Vasquez could have been so lucky). They left a starstruck Teddy in their wake who chattered on enough to invite teasing and draw any and all attention away from Vasquez’s dark mood.

When the trio returned, they returned without Sam’s weekender duffle and Faraday’s backpack, but the man still had his guitar case clutched between his knees. Vasquez watched him move his chair close enough to Sam to be friendly but far enough away that he could plausibly ignore all conversation. That was funny. Vasquez would have assumed he’d be banking on all the curious glances his way to make himself the center of attention.

But no, Faraday was over on the other side of the fire turning his back towards everyone as he knelt in the dirt like a man about to pray. He put his guitar case on the ground and slowly, reverently unlatched it to stare down at his instrument. He lifted the guitar up and into his lap as he sat down and got to work tightening up the strings and tuning it.

“What are you doing?” Teddy asked from his spot between Matthew and Jack.

“Hm?” Faraday looked up and seemed to remember other people were around before dropping his eyes back to his work. “Making her sound pretty again. Have to loosen the strings when you fly to ease tension on the neck. Stringed instruments are real nervous flyers.”

The explanation seemed to appease Teddy’s curiosity. 

A kind of hush fell over the group as they all waited for something to happen. They weren’t being quiet exactly, but usually at these kind of night time get togethers everyone would have been shouting over each other by this point. The quiet murmuring everyone was doing in twos and threes was downright silent in comparison.

“You taking requests, boy?” Goodnight called out from his lovers’ huddle.

“Depends on if I like the request. Sure. Why not?” Faraday strummed an experimental chord and did a few more fine tune adjustments that didn’t make a difference Vasquez could hear.

“What about ‘Ethel and Maria’?” Teddy threw out hopefully.

Faraday and his guitar both made a strange strangled sound as he clutched the neck too tight. “Wow, _fuck_ no. I’m not playing that. You know what? Nevermind. No requests. I got something…”

Red caught Vasquez’s eye by leaning forward to poke at the fire, and both of them shared a silent moment of misery. Neither of them were looking forward to having to sit and listen to some built Ford tough platitudes about the fucking American way, some swaggering anthem about pretty blondes in short shorts and cowboy boots. Wasn’t Vasquez’s idea of a good time.

“This song is called ‘Scarlet Town’,” Faraday said by way of introduction before he started picking a melancholy guitar line. His voice was deep and rough in a way that sent shivers down Vasquez’s spine as he sang, “Buddy, I went down to Scarlet Town, ain’t never been there before. Well, you slept on a feather bed. I slept on the floor. Now I don’t mind a little town or drinking my coffee cold, but the things I seen in Scarlet Town did mortify my soul.”

Vasquez looked around the fire for some kind of clue to see if this was one of Faraday’s songs, and no one was nodding along or mouthing the words like they knew it. He settled in to listen to Faraday sing about a grave and a bell and being a jilted bride, finding it hard to hold onto his ire at their group being invaded by this interloper. The music, he grudgingly had to admit, while maybe not what he would have picked, was good.

When the song was over Faraday transformed into a snarling demon. Nothing about him really changed from his posture to the way he held his guitar, yet the crackling fire between them all and the pale light of the moon above somehow dimmed like he was pulling in the light as he spat rapid fire lines about a dying town and a starving family. Faraday’s brow furrowed, and he crackled with a deadly electric energy that held Vasquez utterly transfixed by this creature Sam brought into their midst.

“Tell me how it got to this. Tell me how we take it back and live,” Faraday sang the last lines of the song and came to a rest, allowing everyone to let out the collective breath they’d been holding.

Sam kicked out a foot to knock against Faraday’s ankle. “Hey, lighten up would you?”

Faraday glanced over at Sam sidelong. Then his face split in a roguish grin, and the spell was broken. Faraday’s hold on all of them released. He was just a man again not a reaper come to drag them all to hell.

The thread of five different interwoven conversations picked back up as Faraday got up and set his guitar down on his chair to pick his way over to a cooler. Unfortunately this brought him closer to Vasquez.

The man looked through the assortment of beer and water bottles before he asked. “Got anything stronger out here?”

Vasquez just frowned up at him.

Ever since Emma got pregnant the group had mostly been sticking to beer in some kind of half-assed solidarity for her newfound inability to drink. There were holdouts though, bottles spirited away just in case. Vasquez could have helped, but he let Teddy produce a small bottle of whiskey for their musical guest instead.

“Perfect,” Faraday said as he took off the cap and took a long swig. Vasquez grabbed another beer so he wouldn’t have to watch Faraday’s throat work as he swallowed.

Once Faraday was settled back in his chair Vasquez figured it was safe to look at him again. Not for the first time tonight he was wrong since Faraday was staring right back at him.

“This is a good one. I saw these guys play a show in Texas once,” Faraday sad to no one in particular as he started tapping a beat on his guitar.

“When the devil is all around, got you crawling on the ground on your hands and your knees with an apple in your mouth. You will know how far you'll go to make your peace with God.” Vasquez wasn’t sure but he thought Faraday smirked at him when he started strumming his guitar as he sang the next lines. “I got wasted and I sat around the fire all day. See if I could find someone to make love to.” 

Shit. That was definitely a wink Faraday shot Vasquez’s way.

Everyone else had gone back to business as usual as Faraday sang his weirdly uplifting song, but Vasquez was still held under his thrall. This new development, this blatant flirting. Maybe Vasquez was just buzzed enough to see if there was anything behind Faraday’s bluff.

And slowly the others started to leave.

Jack Horne was the first to disappear into the darkness. Red was next with Teddy following soon after when he realized his ride was gone. Billy and Goodnight started the walk back home. Sam clapped Faraday on the shoulder before he made for his cabin. Matthew put away all the chairs and moved the coolers back inside before he pulled Emma into the house with him.

Faraday played on through it all singing songs about devils and wandering and loss and guns and violence, sipping whiskey between each one but never wavering. No love songs, not even anything that could be interpreted as one. Vasquez listened to it all silently.

When it was just the two of them and a dying fire Faraday stopped and put his guitar back in its case. He paused for a moment, and then he left it there as he slowly made his way to Vasquez’s side.

“Hey,” Faraday said. “Noticed you watching me.”

“No hablo mucho inglés,” Vasquez replied stubbornly, he raised a hand to rub his own bicep over the place where his scar was hidden under his sleeve.

“Well shit.” Faraday frowned. 

_That’s right, pendejo. Turn around. Vete,_ Vasquez thought meanly, but Faraday did no such thing.

The man took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I had some cheesy pickup lines planned that you could have laughed off if you aren’t interested. God, I’m too fuckin’ drunk to remember much Spanish, but I didn’t know much in the first place if I’m bein’ honest with you. So… Hope you don’t deck me but ¿Quieres una chupada, hombre?”

Vasquez's eyes widened. He didn't. There was no way Faraday had just asked him if he wanted a blowjob in Spanish with a horrible but understandable accent.

“I'll make it good. Wait, fuck, I don't remember how to say that. Fuck.” Faraday wiped his hand down over his eyes. “Nevermind. Lo siento.”

Faraday started to turn away back towards his guitar, but Vasquez's hand shot out to grab his wrist before he could leave.

“¿En serio?” Vasquez asked as he reeled Faraday in to stand between his legs.

Faraday frowned. “Am I serious? Of course I'm fucking serious. Do you know how tight your pants are? Astronauts can probably see you're packing some heat, muchacho.”

Vasquez snorted. While that was very flattering he didn’t think his dick was all that visible.

“Must’ve heard something you liked in there,” Faraday said as he slid to his knees. “So what’s it gonna be? ¿Puedo tocarte?” For somebody who supposedly didn’t know much Spanish he knew exactly what to say to shatter Vasquez’s entire worldview.

Vasquez nodded in acquiescence. He would allow this man to touch him. In fact he would even go a step further and lift up his hips, unzip his jeans, and shimmy them down just enough to give some room to free his already half-hard dick. Faraday put his hands on Vasquez’s knees and licked his lips as he watched.

Nothing happened immediately even though Faraday was clearly eager and had permission to move. He wrapped a hand loosely around the base of Vasquez’s dick and just kept watching it until Vasquez grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him closer.

“Fuck,” Faraday whined. “I like that.That’s good.”

“Te gusta perder el control. Lo recordaré,” Vasquez babbled as he petted down the hair he’d pulled.

Faraday's mouth felt as good as his singing had sounded: hot and a little dangerous like something Vasquez could get used if he wasn’t careful. Faraday licked the underside of Vasquez’s cock slowly slowly to let Vasquez grow hard on his tongue. It was like he couldn’t get enough of the taste, like he needed to swallow Vasquez down to live. Drool trickled out both sides of Faraday’s mouth as he started a rhythm. Vasquez’s hand tightened in Faraday’s hair as he hollowed his cheeks.

Vasquez was not going to last, not when Faraday hummed around his mouthful as he bobbed his head. 

“Guero,” Vasquez tried to warn Faraday as his balls started to draw up tight, but Faraday just let out a desperate sound and sucked all the harder. 

The man swallowed down every last drop of Vasquez’s cum, and Vasquez really wasn’t sure what to do with that. Vasquez wasn’t sure how to react to Faraday slowly slipping Vasquez’s spent dick out of his mouth and resting with his face against Vasquez’s thigh for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the way Faraday closed his eyes so his eyelashes fanned out on his flushed cheeks.

“¿Estás bien? Háblame. Déjame cuidarte,” Vasquez said as soon as he recovered enough to start stroking Faraday’s hair again.

“I’m okay? I don’t know what you’re saying,” Faraday answered miserably. When he smiled crookedly up at Vasquez his pupils were completely blown, but instead of asking for the favor to be returned, Faraday stood up and took a respectful step back. “Thanks for that. Gracias.”

He was really thanking Vasquez for the pleasure of sucking his dick? That was what was happening?

The cool night air on Vasquez’s spit-soaked cock started to feel uncomfortable, so he got up to tuck himself back away and zip up. Faraday seemed to take this as a dismissal. The fun was over. He turned around and started stiffly walking over to his guitar case.

Vasquez moved to make sure the fire was properly banked, but he watched out of the corner of his eyes as Faraday discreetly adjusted himself, flat of his palm pressed against the front of jeans a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary before he picked up his guitar case and started for his cabin. He was leaving! He was just walking off into the moonlight with an obvious hard-on like it didn’t matter, like he didn’t even let himself think for a moment that Vasquez have might have wanted to reciprocate.

Who was this man?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics used in this chapter in order of appearance:
> 
> \- The Devil Is All Around - Shovels & Rope (epigraph)  
> \- Scarlet Town - Gillian Welch  
> \- Empty Well - Palodine  
> \- The Devil Is All Around - Shovels & Rope (again, I know)
> 
> \-----
> 
> If you want to hear a playlist of cover songs Faraday sang at the campfire I put together a setlist on Spotify.
> 
> Campfire Setlist [[link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ic9WLQyObnb4EVQ4QsDk0)]
> 
> \- Scarlet Town - Gillian Welch  
> \- Empty Well - Palodine  
> \- The Devil Is All Around - Shovels & Rope  
> \- The Serpent - Moriah Woods  
> \- Long Gone - The Dead South  
> \- Black Dresses - The Builders and The Butchers  
> \- Do Wrong Right - The Devil Makes Three  
> \- Peacemaker - The Steeldrivers  
> \- Sleeping On The Blacktop - Coltor Wall  
> \- One Man’s Shame - William Elliott Whitmore  
> \- Murder in the City - The Avett Brothers
> 
> I imagine he is more of what people would consider an Americana artist tbh, but he got pretty popular with country fans.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Spanish Translations:
> 
> \- No hablo mucho inglés : I don't speak a lot of English.  
> \- Vete : Go away  
> \- ¿Quieres una chupada, hombre? : Do you want a blowjob, man?  
> \- Lo siento. : Sorry.  
> \- ¿En serio? : Seriously?  
> \- ¿Puedo tocarte? : Can I touch you?  
> \- Te gusta perder el control. Lo recordaré : You like to give up control. I'll remember that.  
> \- ¿Estás bien? Háblame. Déjame cuidarte : Are you okay? Talk to me. Let me take care of you.
> 
> Might be playing a bit fast and loose with translations. I'm not great at Spanish, so if there are any mistakes I'm sorry and I'll correct them.


	3. Chapter 2

_You're not my boyfriend, I don't want a boyfriend  
Just make a little trouble over me_

“Trouble Over Me” - Tift Merritt

\-----

It was with much regret that Joshua packed up his guitar and stumbled away from one of the hottest men he’d ever had the privilege of sucking off in his life. He knew he was at the point of drunkenness where he had enough self awareness left to know he needed to get horizontal before he embarrassed himself. It wasn’t like a lack of any real gag reflex was a help in preventing him from opening his big mouth and saying something stupid. Or even stupider than usual at least. He had just enough presence of mind for the tiny, elderly Puerto Rican woman in his mind that formed his conscience to let him know that if he pissed off Sam’s friends the rest of his stay at Rose Creek would be very awkward.

So maybe Joshua regretted that he had to leave, but he didn’t regret what he had done. It had been good. It had been _so_ good and satisfying for Joshua to get his hands on the man with the smoldering eyes who had watched him across the campfire all night.

_God, those eyes._

Every long line of the Spanish-speaking ranch hand had radiated suspicion when Joshua first rolled up to the fire. The man had been a lighthouse in the darkness, what with the way his eyes had flashed a warning, and Joshua couldn’t wait to crash on that rocky shore. The ranch hand had drawn in Josh’s attention so thoroughly that he hadn’t listened to any of the introductions Sam threw out. Coming to Rose Creek didn't particularly interest him, making friends with the locals didn’t interest him, but _this_? This kind of trouble was exactly what Joshua liked. 

So he had waited until he could get the ranch hand alone, waited to get more of a read on the man, and everything had worked out in the end. Just like always.

Joshua licked his lips at the memory of ranch hand’s dick hot and heavy on his tongue. His jeans felt uncomfortable since his own erection was trying to point the way home, but he could hardly do anything about it now that he’d wandered off into the night. His dick didn’t know shit about where to go; he needed to concentrate.

“Soon,” Joshua muttered a promise to himself. “Just have to remember where the lady rancher’s trophy husband took me.”

He didn’t get a chance to wander very far before there was a bright light behind him and the sound of a small motor rapidly approaching. Joshua automatically wrapped both his arms securely around his guitar case. It didn’t really matter if he got hit, but he’d really rather his girl not get damaged.

A golf cart pulled up on Joshua’s side so the passenger seat was facing him.

“Entra,” the ranch hand said, gesturing for Joshua to get in the cart.

Well, that wasn’t how Joshua planned for this to go at all. His erection was unflagging, and he could feel something stupid forming on the tip of his tongue like a craving for cherry pie, unwanted and unstoppable. _Fuck it_ , he thought. If he pissed off Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome and got himself uninvited to Rose Creek in the process he’d just go home. It wasn’t like going there had been Joshua’s idea in the first place.

“I don’t know how you do things in Mexico,” Joshua started, some small logical part of him way back in the back of his mind realizing that it was a shitty thing to say when he had no idea where the ranch hand was from yet powerless to override his self-destructive tendencies. “But here in America when a man leaves on a walk of shame, you don’t run him down in a golf cart.”

“Walk of shame?” The ranch hand repeated with a frown.

“I’m not ashamed of what we did,” Joshua quickly explained because he still wasn’t. “I just…. You know.”

The ranch hand watched the vague hand motion Joshua waved with an unimpressed look on his face for a moment before he got out of the cart and walked around it. The man moved slowly as if he was afraid Joshua was going to bolt as he drew closer and took Joshua’s guitar to lay gently down in the backseat. Once he was satisfied it wasn’t going anywhere he turned back to Joshua and gestured towards the front seat.

“I guess I could accept a ride.” Joshua started to climb into the golf cart before his guitar case in the backseat caught his eye, and he realized there were no straps to secure it in. “But you have to drive carefully so my baby doesn’t fall out. Cuidadoso.”

“Manejaré más despacio que tu abuela. Sólo entra.” The ranch hand sighed and pushed at Joshua’s shoulders until he was seated. As soon as he’d accomplished this goal, he moved to take his own seat and started off across the grounds at a snail’s pace. It was barely better than walking, but since Joshua didn’t know his way, he couldn’t really complain. The ride was smooth enough not to jostle any of the cart’s passengers, human or stringed instrument.

Of course there was another problem. 

The golf cart was pretty small. Both the back and front seats were formed out of molded benches which meant there was really no separation between Joshua and his handsome stranger. They were both pretty large men, and the ranch hand didn’t seem to see any problem with sitting as close to the middle as possible instead of scooting over to maintain an inch of distance. There was really no way Joshua could move himself so he wasn’t pressed against the ranch hand’s warm side without throwing himself out of the cart onto the ground. He really didn’t think he could stand the humiliation of being forced to get back in again.

Joshua was not proud of what he did next, but he had needs. He was so very very turned on already.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” the ranch hand asked as Joshua pressed a palm over the front of his jeans and groaned.

“Don’t worry about it,” Joshua hissed through his teeth as he unzipped them. “I can take care of myself. It won’t take long.”

The ranch hand huffed a dismissive noise in the back of his throat. He switched which hand he had on the steering wheel so he could brush Joshua’s hands away from his dick once it was free and wrap his own broad, calloused hand around it.

It was rough. Dry. Just on the right side of painfully uncomfortable.

It was instant relief.

After a few blissful moments, Joshua realized he was about to come, and he didn’t even remember the name of the man who had him by the cock.

“¿Qué es tu nombre?” Joshua blurted out as he scrambled for purchase, gripping the seat under him to try to brace himself.

The ranch hand slid his hand down to tighten his fingers in a ring around the base of Joshua’s shaft, effectively putting the load he was about to blow on hold. “No, guero. ¿ _Cuál_ es tu nombre?”

“Really?” Joshua laughed a little hysterically at the matter-of-fact the asshole cooling him down corrected his grammar, only to start panting as a loose fist pumped him once. Twice. “Joshua. I mean, fuck. Not me. You. What’s your name? ¿Cómo te llamas?”

“Eduardo,” the ranch hand said. Joshua could feel the man’s breath warm on his neck.

“Eduardo,” Joshua’s voice hitched as he repeated. It wouldn’t have taken much more than that to get him there: a handsome stranger’s name on his lips and a warm hand on his cock. Then the ranch hand slipped down to grip the base and pinch off his pleasure again in a way that made the bottom drop out of Joshua’s stomach. “Oh, come on! You have to be doing that on purpose, you asshole.”

Eduardo chuckled darkly as he cut the engine to turn more fully towards Joshua. Oh, he was trouble in the best kind of way, and Joshua was starting to hope to get another shot at him before this one was even done. He kept one hand wrapped around Joshua’s shaft as he rubbed the palm of the other over the head to spread the beads of precome in slow circles. It must not have been enough wetness for his tastes because he drew his hand away again to spit into it inelegantly before he started pumping Joshua in earnest. 

The moonlight caught the white of Eduardo’s smile, and Joshua had to snare that mouth in a searing kiss. He bit Eduardo’s bottom lip as the man’s hand sped up to finally help bring him over the edge.

“Fuck.” Joshua let himself slouch down enough that he could rest his head on the back of the seat.

Eduardo chuckled as he politely tucked Joshua away and zipped up his pants for him. He less politely wiped his own hands on Joshua’s hoodie before he started patting Joshua down.

“Whoa, hey!” Josh weakly batted at Eduardo’s hands the man's fingers skimmed over his wallet. “Stop that.”

“Dame tus llaves o dime en qué cabaña te vas a quedar,” Eduardo said a lot of words Joshua either did not remember or didn’t know. To be honest he was feeling too sleepy and sated to even try.

Joshua raised both his hands in defeat to let the bastard do whatever he wanted. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means. Do your worse, Eddie.”

“No me llames Eddie.” Eduardo shuddered before he went back to work patting Joshua down.

“What should I call you then?” Joshua asked, watching Eduardo pull out his cabin key with a triumphant little sound and hold it up to check the number on the key fob by the light of the moon. Ah _cabaña_. Right. That made sense. He’d wanted to know where to take Joshua.

Eduardo started driving again before he answered, waiting so long that Joshua was trying to think how to rephrase the question before he answered, “Lalo.”

“Lalo?” It seemed a little too cutesy, and yet Joshua couldn’t deny that it was fun to say. “How do you get that from Eduardo? I don’t understand Spanish nicknames. Hey, is it okay if I call you that? I think I will anyway. Eduardo is too long. Hey, Lalo… Where did you go?”

The cart wasn’t moving.

It took Joshua an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that and the fact that both his guitar and sexy ranch hand were gone. He may have lost track of time a little bit somewhere along the line. The deluxe cabin Trophy Husband had brought Joshua to earlier loomed in front of him, and the door was left slightly ajar with a warm glow within inviting Joshua to climb out of the golf cart and move inside. 

Lalo straightened from where he had been setting Joshua’s guitar case in a chair in a little reading nook in the corner of the front sitting room with the proper amount of respect. “¿Estás bien?”

The man had to walk towards Joshua in order to leave, but he couldn’t actually exit the cabin as long as Joshua was in the doorway. 

A memory came to Joshua unbidden of how he had come out to _her_ , to his Great Aunt Ethel as Maria puttered in the background dusting the same spots over and over in nervousness over what the secret he’d claimed to want to share could be. Ethel had laughed when he said he was gay and clapped him on the back. She said she was proud of him for owning it but she knew. She said that like always knows like, that she’d recognized him immediately as a kindred spirit when they met. It was part of what motivated her to agree to take him in all those years ago.

Now when Joshua looked at Lalo he recognized a kindred spirit. He recognized the sadness in Lalo’s eyes that hinted at jagged edges, at a sense of loss Joshua could understand. Usually Joshua wasn’t one to show his vulnerability in front of strangers, but it felt fine with Lalo, a twin-soul who seemed more familiar than he had any right to be.

“It’s late,” Joshua said as he raised his hands to hover over Lalo’s chest, not quite brave enough to touch yet in full light. “Stay with me?”

Lalo’s dark eyes were inscrutable as he stared at Joshua, but he didn’t make Josh wait long. He moved forward to press himself against Joshua’s hands. That was all the invitation needed for Joshua to slide his hands up to cup Lalo’s jaw. Their mouths met as one lonely man tasted the desperation of another. Lalo dug a hand under Joshua’s hoodie, under his t-shirt, to seek out more contact skin to skin.

A familiar dance ensued.

They shed their clothes as they made their way through the front sitting area to the bedroom like they were hurtling towards a first time. Joshua wasn’t sure he could get it up again, but he would be more than happy to get his mouth on this man again if it came to that. Lalo seemed content enough to kiss Joshua. His lips, his neck, his collarbones. When Joshua’s back hit the bed, Lalo sat back on his haunches to look at him.

Joshua was aware of how washed up he looked. His arms were still pretty nice, but he was starting to get soft around the middle again since he’d fallen out of regular gym visits. Lalo on the other hand was whipcord tough with a lean body borne out of that elusive cocktail of good genes and hard work. Dark hair on his chest trailed down to neatly trimmed pubic hair in just the way that drove Joshua wild.

“Que lindo,” Lalo said as he ran a hand up Joshua’s side. He moved with a predator’s grace as he lowered himself down on top of Joshua.

Joshua wrapped both arms around him to lock him in place in response. “Funny. I was just about to say the same thing,” he quipped with a crooked sort of smile.

Then they were all lips and teeth and wandering hands as they warmed up to a round two just as messy and awkward as their fumblings outside in the dark. Joshua let himself get lost in the feeling of friction as Lalo’s hand wrapped around both of their erections pressed together, impossibly hot enough to melt down Joshua’s insides. They moved together, and it was so much better than a blowjob behind a lady’s house. Joshua wanted more.

“Sí, vente por mí,” Lalo murmured as Joshua fell into his second orgasm for the night. He kind of collapsed after and pressed his face against Josh’s shoulder. “¿Cómo pasó esto? No quise seguirte aquí.”

Even if he’d understood enough to answer, Joshua found his tongue too heavy to move as his eyelids succumbed to the heavy burden of his growing drowsiness. He was vaguely aware of Lalo getting off of him and of a wet cloth swiping through the cooling mess on his skin and then the blessed nothingness he’d been chasing for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lyrics used in this chapter except the epigraph, and I don't really see the need to cite that again.
> 
> \---
> 
> Spanish Translations:
> 
> \- Entra : Get in  
> \- Cuidadoso : Careful  
> \- Manejaré más despacio que tu abuela. Sólo entra : I'll drive slower than your grandmother. Just get in  
> \- ¿Qué estás haciendo? : What are you doing?  
> \- ¿Cuál es tu nombre? : What is your name?  
> \- ¿Cómo te llamas? : essentially What is your name? again but different  
> \- Dame tus llaves o dime en qué cabaña te vas a quedar : Give me your keys or tell me what cabin you're staying in  
> \- No me llames Eddie : Don't call me Eddie  
> \- I'd like to note here that I picked Eduardo as a first name for Vasquez because I had a few lists of Spanish-speaking nicknames open and I liked how Lalo sounded the most. It's so cute. Imagine his mom and like a thousand tiny aunties calling him that and it suiting him well when he's tiny yet continuing to do so after he grew up to tower over all of them. So. Cute.  
> \- ¿Estás bien? : You okay?  
> \- Que lindo : That's lovely/pretty. Expressing beauty pretty much.  
> \- Sí, vente por mí : Yes, come for me  
> \- ¿Cómo pasó esto? No quise seguirte aquí : How did this happen? I didn't mean to follow you here.
> 
> Again, if I have made mistakes let me know. I try my best.
> 
> \---
> 
> Coming soon: 
> 
> \- Faraday is sober and something doesn't add up  
> \- Vasquez freaks out a little (or perhaps a lot)  
> \- Faraday honestly does not remember anyone's names (with one notable exception)

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on my writing blog at @ [heliodorwrites](https://heliodorwrites.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


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